How to Heal
by cobrafantasies
Summary: When Joey's mom passes away, his drinking starts to get out of control. This causes a shift in the group.
1. Chapter 1

**Author:** Jen

**Author's Note:** I'm trying a bit more serious drama, hopefully it goes well! Let me know what you think!

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately, I do not own anything or any of the characters.

**A/N: **When Joey's mom passes away, his drinking starts to get out of control. This causes a shift in the group.

(Set around season seven.)

* * *

_Three weeks after Gloria Tribbiani's death._

I hear a bang. My eyes tiredly open. I look to the clock on my nightstand. 4:18 a.m.

I roll my eyes as I hear the front door creaking shut. I get up and drag myself out to the living room. Joey's leaning against the door nearly passed out.

"Joey," I say sorrowfully. He opens his eyes and looks at me.

"Hey Rach," he crookedly smiles at me. He's drunk, completely wasted, as he has been almost every night these past few weeks. I can't yell at him though because I understand. His mother passed away. He was so close with her, it killed him…still does. But these crazy drunken nights are getting out of hand and none of us know what to do. I took on the responsibility to take care of him as much as I can, mainly because I'm his roommate. It would be tough to sleep only a few feet away and not do something.

So, like every other night, I take hold of his arm and carefully start to lead him to his room.

"Rach, the city is sooo alivvve at night." His words slur and I cringe at his beer-tainted breath.

"I know sweetie," I respond softly. We reach his door. I struggle with managing to hold him up and open his door at the same time. Somehow I accomplish this task and get him to his bed. I guide him until he's lying on the bed, barely even conscious anymore. I move to his feet and pull off his shoes. I reach to his back pocket, remove his wallet, and place it on the nightstand. I kneel down in front of his face then. I place my hand on his clammy forehead and lightly brush it through his hair. 'Poor baby' I can't help but think. I wish I could do more, but I don't know what else I could do. So I get up and return to my own bed.

* * *

The next day is Saturday. Joey doesn't rise until noon. At least, that's when I hear a loud thump. I hurry to his room; I push the door open and see him on the floor.

"Joey, are you okay?" I exclaim and rush to his side.

He groans and flips over painfully.

"My head hurts," he whines.

"I would imagine," I respond. "Come on why don't you get up and get some food in your system?"

"I can't move, Rachel I have to stay right here," he protests.

I sigh, he's usually stubborn or depressed when he's sober these days.

"Joey, honey, you can't lie on the floor forever." I try not to sound reprimanding. He squints open his eyes at me, having not looked up since I came in.

He lets out a long, tired sigh.

"Why not? What's the big deal? What is the world gonna stop turning if I just stay here!"

"No, but that's not much of a life."

"Rachel, what kind of life is this?" He suddenly sits up and I would imagine that rapid movement shot a spark of pain through his aching head. He flinches slightly, but is determined to continue. "A life where _life_ is just taken away at any day's notice!"

"I know," I try to hush him.

"A life where it won't matter if I never move from this floor because nothing I do is going to bring her back!" he starts to shout.

"I know, shhh," I whisper and rub his shoulder.

"Nothing!" he throws his head into my shoulder, crying. For once, I'm not repulsed by a crying man, but saddened by his undeniable pain. I wrap my arms around him and don't let him go until his eyes go dry.

* * *

With each night of dealing with Joey I get more and more annoyed because it's like trying to watch some ratty, little kid I didn't sign up for. He's such a child when he's drunk, before he passes out, but I guess it's better than the bad mood or sad sober Joey. I hate seeing these dreadful sides of him. We all know this isn't healthy, but what can we do? We've tried to keep him distracted or convince him otherwise when he heads off to the bar, but nothing works. And speaking of work, he hasn't worked in weeks and we keep telling him to contact his agent and go on auditions again. Nothing budges though.

One day I come home from work and see Joey sitting at the island. I'm shocked to see him at all. Usually, at this time, he's off at who knows where.

"Hey Joey," I say, but his face holds a far off glaze and he takes a while to answer.

"Hey," he sighs.

"What are you doing home?" I ask and then wonder if maybe that wasn't a good idea. Maybe I shouldn't have reminded him of the bar in any way.

He shrugs.

"I…don't know what to do," he tells me.

My mind thinks, well usually you're getting drunk at the bar at this time, but of course I'm relieved he's not.

"Well, we can do anything. We can watch a movie, play some foosball, just talk?" I offer excitedly. He looks dully up for a split second before looking down again.

"Nah, I think I'm just gonna go out," he says and gets up from the bar stool.

"No!" I dispute. He looks unexpectedly at me.

"I mean, why don't you want to hang out, we can have fun. When was the last time we spent time together?" I try.

"Alright, fine," he agrees and I smile happily.

"I know! Let's play a board game, we never play those!"

"Do we even have one?" Joey asks wearily.

"Well, I'm sure Monica does, I'll be right back!"

A few minutes later I return and I'm so relieved to see Joey didn't leave. I thought he might use the time to escape to the bar.

"Okay, she only had the game Life." I tell him with the box in my hand.

The game goes well for a little while. But soon Joey gets slower and slower with his turns. It takes him a year to just role the dice and move his piece. Finally, at one turn he's taking forever to decide which way to go on the board.

"Why don't you just go the left, then you won't have to pay anything?" I suggest.

"Oh, who cares?" He finally lets out, so bored of the game.

I feel my blood heating up. He's been making me so angry this whole game.

"I do!" I shout at him. He jumps back slightly. "I care okay so why can't you just play a stupid board game, why can't you just try anymore?" I remain at the high volume, really worked up now. He stares at me.

"I just don't want to play-" he starts, but I fire back at him.

"No, no it's not about this dumb board game, it's everything. Joey, I get it, you're really hurting and you should be. I totally get it and feel for you, but we've all been trying really hard to help, to lift your spirits again. But that's just it - you _don't care_ - you just don't give a shit about the people trying to help you because we care that much about you! You're making everything worse Joey!"

I feel awful right after I say it, but at the same time I'm so grateful I got it off my chest. He needed to hear it, hopefully. Unfortunately, he's still giving me a blank stare. Finally, he picks up the dice.

"Fine, I'll play," he tells me, but I lose it again. I pounce on him and trap his wrists down with my hands.

"I don't care about the game!" I scream at him, but now I'm losing control and my eyes are starting to water.

"Rachel stop!" he yells at me. He's fidgeting beneath me, but I only tighten my grip on him.

"Okay, okay!" He shouts. "I'm sorry, okay I'm sorry I haven't been trying!"

Finally, I exhale a large breath and loosen my hold on his wrists. Then, I get off him and sit right in front of him so when he sits up again we're face to face.

"Joey…" I put my hands on his face so I can lock him in and really get my message to him. "I just…care so much about you and I can't bare to see you like this anymore. You have to stop, please, you have to try and get better," I cry to him.

He holds my stare for a few moments. Then he talks again.

"I will," he breathes hoarsely. I let him go and drop my head, trying to hold back my sour tears. When he pulls me into his arms, I'm so happy he lets me cry into his chest, even though I'm not the one that deserves to cry.

I fell for you when you were at your worst


	2. Chapter 2

It's been a solid four days that Joey has stayed sober…enough. He has his typical beer or two throughout the day, but that's nothing. He hasn't been to the bars or lost control of himself. I've been very happy and hopeful that he was getting so much better.

Joey went on a fishing trip with his dad today. I was glad he was out with family. For once, I didn't have a single worry about him since I figured he was in good hands. He walks in around four in the afternoon. The smell hits me first. Wet mud, and it's what he's covered in. I look at him in the doorframe, literally covered in mud. Head to toe, all in his hair and clothes.

"Joey! What happened?"

"I… fell in some mud."

"Oh…my god," I say staring at him. "Well, take your shoes off," I tell him as I see the muddy footprints on our floor. He listens and pulls off his dirty boots.

"Okay uh… let's just run the shower over you." I don't touch him, but try to lead him to the shower. Luckily, he just follows. I turn the water on and he just steps in, muddy clothes and all.

"I'll get a rag," I offer. When I come back the shower has run a lot of the mud off, but his hair and face is still pretty filthy. I wet the rag and cover it with shampoo. I start rubbing it over his head and through his hair. I carefully also go over his face. He just stands perfectly still this whole time, only closing his eyes when I come to his face. I let the water wash away the soap bubbles and then work on his hair again. I have to work out the clumps stuck in his naturally brown strands. His clothes are finally dirt free and only soaking wet now.

"Do you want to shower now?" I ask, implying I'll leave so he can really clean himself and get rid of his clothes. He looks at me, still silent as ever. He slowly nods his head no. I frown at him.

"No? You're gonna have to change your clothes anyway, so you might as well clean-" I begin, but then he just sits down on the floor of the tub. I don't know what to do. I kneel down outside the tub to get level with him.

"You okay, did something happen? How's your dad?" I ask and take the rag to his hair again. It doesn't even faze him though; he lets me clean whatever I can off him. He does eventually answer though.

"He's an ass," he tells me. My eyes widen at this.

"Your dad, why?"

"He doesn't even care, he made…a joke about mom!" he shouts angrily.

"Well, some people deal differently maybe-"

"No, she's dead and he's cracking jokes? How can he do that?" he interrupts me again.

"Joey, I'm sure he didn't mean it like that. You know he must be hurting too."

"Who cares, he's just a fu-"

"Joey! Come on now, this is your dad, your mother's husband. Give him a little credit," I tell him. He looks at me, his face still plastered with disapproval.

He's being too stubborn.

"You know what, you need to shower," I firmly state.

"No," he says.

"Yes," I command him and shirt pulling at his shirt. He leans away from me and tries to grab my wrists to stop me, but I pull his shirt open before he gets a chance. I pull it off and then go for his undershirt, but he's being difficult.

"Joey! You need to shower! You're filthy and you stink. So, shower now. I'm not leaving until I see your clothes hit the ground." I stand and close the shower curtain so he can undress and do what I say. I wait and watch the closed curtain. I hear no movement, but in about a minute his other shirt hits the floor. Then his pants and socks and finally his underwear.

"Good, I'm going to clean these, scrub up well!" I call to him before picking up the wet clothes.

I think I finally realize this is the way to deal with him. It's a very sensitive situation, but Joey needs a firm hand. He needs someone to take control and help him out of the dark hole he's built for himself. He needs someone to lend him a helping hand and force him to take it or he's never getting out. So, that's what I'm going to do.

I still saw you when you weren't yourself


	3. Chapter 3

One day, we all decide we're gonna take a walk together in the park. We never do that, but figured it would be nice for Joey. All of us together, enjoying a quiet and peaceful outing at the park. Get some fresh air, you know? It was a bit chilly today so we all grabbed our fall jackets and headed out.

We had walked about forty minutes by now. I ended up in the front with the girls while the boys ended up behind us. I turn to see how far back they are. The three of us stop and we all turn to look. I see Joey has removed his coat and is holding it over his arm. He is only left with a very light, long sleeve shirt.

"Joey, put your coat back on," I tell him. He looks at me and then down at the coat.

"I don't want to."

"Joey, it's cold out, come on," I get a little harsher.

"No, I'm fine," he protests.

"Joseph, put the coat on!" I raise my voice. Everyone looks at me shocked. Joey only glares at me through narrowed eyes before finally putting it on, while mumbling '"fine" back to me. Everyone slowly begins to walk again as Monica pulls me aside. Naturally, the boys continue ahead and me, Monica, and a curious Phoebe start to linger behind.

"Rachel, what are you doing?" Monica talks in a hushed tone.

"What?" I ask.

"You're being pretty harsh to Joey there."

"He was being stubborn again."

"Well, he is a grown up you know and it's a pretty serious situation, maybe you should take it easy on him," she suggests.

"No, Monica, you don't understand. I have learned that Joey needs that. He gets nowhere unless I am stern with him."

"I don't know it did seem kind of rough. He's still not himself," Phoebe joins in.

"Listen guys, you haven't been living with him. Trust me, it works. He needs that…mother type back in his life," I say realizing it myself right now. Monica and Phoebe look at me with strange looks.

"You know, I think that's only covering up the wound. How could replacing the missing thing in his life going to help him heal? If you just take the place of the mother figure he's yearning for, he may never get fully over it." Monica analyzes the situation too deep for me.

"Huh?"

I look at Phoebe and she nods at me, but then shrugs when Monica's not looking.

We just continue our stroll through the park and drop the subject, at that point.

* * *

When we get back home, I can tell Joey is mad at me. We walk into our apartment alone, after saying goodbye to our friends. Joey refuses to make eye contact with me and hasn't spoken yet.

"Joey, don't be a baby," I say and realize now I'm being a bit of a bully.

"Okay, sorry. Look I was just looking to-" I begin to explain, but he interrupts me.

"You didn't have to embarrass me like that."

"Embarrass? Come on, Joe I told you to put your coat on."

"Yeah! I'm thirty years old, I don't need you telling me what to do."

"You're thirty-one," I feel the need to correct him.

"_Hey_," he warns me, only partly kidding. "Really Rachel, you can stop now okay."

"Stop what?"

"You know, worrying so much about me, always telling me what to do and making sure I do them." He says clearly bothered at my past actions.

"Oh, I'm sorry…I didn't know I wasn't supposed to care!" I express.

"I didn't say that, I'm saying you can hold off okay. I know how to brush my teeth and put a coat on."

"No, I can't Joey because you're still not okay," I argue.

"What are you talking about, it's been two months now."

"Yeah, two months and you're still not yourself. You clearly still need some guidance."

"I don't need 'guidance,'" he makes fun of the word like the whole thing's a silly joke.

"So, you're completely fine?"

"Yes," he says definitely.

"Really, so then you've completely coped? Which means we can talk about it now?"

"Talk about what?" he suddenly watches me carefully, as if trying to figure me out.

"Your mother passing away."

He's suddenly frozen now, except when he pushes down a huge gulp in his throat.

"Why…why do we need to do that?" he tries to keep himself composed.

"Because that's what fine people are able to do. Discuss it and let everything out."

"Well, I don't want to do that," he tells me.

"Why not, maybe I want to."

"Well, you don't get to," he stuffs his nose up at me.

"I have freedom of speech," I attest by starting to speak of my memories of Gloria Tribbiani. He runs over to me and pastes his hand over my mouth.

"Stop! Stop, you're not allowed to talk about her, she's not your mother!"

I struggle to break away from his hand, but finally break free.

"See, I told you! You're not fine!" I shout at him.

"No, I am! I just don't wan-" his voice breaks as he tries to go on. I watch him, waiting for him to continue, but I can tell he would happily leave the conversation at any point he can.

"Joey, talking about it can be good, it could help."

"No, no! That's stupid."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. I don't need to talk about my own mother if I don't want to."

"Why don't you?" I inquire.

"Because…just because there is nothing to talk about, that's all."

"Really, then why can't I say anything?"

"Because…you can't okay? You just can't. You barely even knew her and why do you even want to anyway? That's what I'm saying; you would have nothing to talk about anyway. And even if you knew her better-"

I jump and throw my lips on his to shut up his rambling. He's shell-shocked from my actions. I release my lips slowly as he's not moving at all. He stares at me until I say something. I take my time because I'm surprised at the tingling sensation on my lips. It wears off pretty quickly though from such a small kiss.

"Joey, you're right. I'm done being your mother. But I'm not done being there for you. You can't get rid of me," I say to him and then make my way to my room, leaving him where he is.

You were never truly alone even when you were alone


	4. Chapter 4

I wake up in the middle of the night. I have to pee. Ugg, I hate these random nights when I have to get up at four in the morning for a bathroom break. Luckily, I'm not at the point where it happens regularly, I'm not that old!

I find my way to my door in the dark and open it. I'm surprised to be greeted with a dim blue light coming from the TV. Joey is in one of the lounge chairs watching something. I can tell his eyes look just as tired as mine even in the poor lighting and through my weary eyes at the moment.

"Joey? What are you doing up?"

He looks over at me and shrugs.

"Can't sleep," he says. I walk over to him and try to see what he's watching, but I'm too tired to care.

"Sweetie, go back to bed," I tell him and place a hand on his shoulder kindly.

"I did for like seven hours and it got me no where," he responds.

I sigh a long breath and realize I don't have the strength for this and I'm not his mother anymore.

"Okay, fine," I say and go to turn to leave for the bathroom, my original destination. Joey unexpectedly grabs my wrist.

"Wait!"

I look at him and wait tiredly.

"You're…you're not going do anything else?" he asks. I don't know how to respond to this question.

"Like what?" I let out.

"Like…yell at me or make me go back to my room?"

I look at him in the dark light and wonder why he would ask me all this.

"No… I don't want to, I'm too tired." I tell him. He stands up now and faces me. I really don't see where he's going with this.

"But don't you care? I mean I can't sleep and I'm really tired and I hate this Rachel, I do. Maybe you should suggest something for me or turn off the TV or push me back to my room. Or maybe we can just stay up together…."

"Joey!" I stop him.

His head instantly drops at this, as if very disappointed. I'm so confused by his actions.

"Wha-" I begin.

"I wasn't hoping for the yelling now," he states simply.

"What?" I try again.

"I was hoping for…" he pauses just to stare me in the eyes and I wait worried at what in the world he's going to say to me.

"I was hoping for this again," he says and then leans into my lips. I let him kiss me gently and then step back. Even in the short time yet again I remember his lips being just as soft as the last time. All the while, I'm not angry, but still hopeless confused at the situation. He's waiting for me to say something or maybe do something, I don't really know. All I know is, I'm attracted to this Joey. This tired, lonely Joey standing in the dark asking for someone to be there for him, to make him feel better. His eyes don't say tired, they say broken and hurt, they say 'come love me' and I want to. I step up and kiss him again, but for real this time. I place both my hands on his face and pull him into a real, warm kiss that actually lasts a few moments. And I'm a little guilty to admit I enjoy every waking minute of it. So, I back away and just look at him. I can see my small contribution has already lightened him up a bit. So, I leave it at that and finally walk to the bathroom. When I come back out, he's gone and so I return to my bedroom and fall back asleep.

* * *

So, one thing has become a regular thing and that's kissing Joey. He asks for it, well without _actually_ asking for it. Nearly every day he just complains and argues with me until I kiss him. I don't mind it though, like I said I enjoy kissing him…he's a good kisser, I have no shame in admitting that. And if this is somehow helping him then this is the easiest and most fun way to help him cope. He hasn't picked up a beer bottle in a while, so I'm very content with kissing his sober lips.

There is one little thing about it though, this whole system that has worked itself out, the process of him rambling on about stuff to annoy me, well it really does annoy me. So, more and more I get aggressive with him. He likes it though, I can tell because if I kiss him harder or more forceful one day he'll grab my waist or find somewhere to dig his fingertips into. I don't mind that either though, in fact it turns me on and makes up for any irritation I was feeling moments before. So, really, the kisses are just a win win situation for both of us.

But that's not all…see, as we begin to get more and more aggressive with each other, my frustration level rises with every word he speaks in his attempts to receive a kiss. So, this one time I snatched at his shirt, another time grabbed his hair, and one last time I pushed him before walking up to him and kissing him. He must have loved it though because the very next time he starting rambling on for a kiss, right as I was moving in, he shoved me against a wall. I don't think he was thinking and so he backed off pretty quickly after the kiss. But when he did it, shots of adrenaline ran through my body and heated my skin. I loved it too and basically it led to only one other thing. Sex. Yes, I slept with Joey. The worst and best part is it turned into a casual thing. We both haven't been dating these past months and so it was a great way to relieve some stress. That's my excuse, it just feels so good to finally get away and get a release from everything. We both need it; we both need a release.

Now, before I attempt to save myself some shame, the last thing I want to embarrassingly say is I get it…I understand now why so many girls were mad Joey didn't call them back - he's really good in bed.

I knew you wanted me close, it ends up I needed you closer


	5. Chapter 5

I've never really done the "friends with benefits" thing. At the same time, I _really_ enjoy having sex with Joey; it's weird because I've known him for so long. So, yes, as I lay in his bed after he has just provoked every wonderfully, sensitive spot in my body, I think this is weird cause it's Joey. But the other side is…it's not weird at all. I say it's weird because in my mind it _should_ be and sometimes it seems surreal that Joey and I are actually sleeping together, that this all happened, but in reality I'm completely comfortable with every part of it. Actually, that's the most surprising thing; with Joey I'm not even insecure. I can be totally myself with him, even being naked in front of him, which was never something I was very free about. Maybe that's why casual sex with a friend seems like such a good idea, you get sex and you actually trust the person. Also, in this case it's helping Joey mourn over his mother's death... somehow. Basically, I don't really see the downside.

Okay, maybe the only downside I could think of at the moment is the loss of power. See, now the system is different, there's no arguing… there's just kissing and sex. And when Joey's lips and touch and skin and body take over, my senses fall flat. He's hasn't taken advantage of this, maybe he doesn't even know, but honestly I would probably agree to anything when he's doing these things.

One day, I try to talk to him. Ask him about our whole situation because I wonder if we're getting ourselves into trouble without realizing. This plan doesn't succeed seeing as the second I come home, Joey's all over me. He almost immediately takes my hand when I walk in and leads me over to the couch. I sit down with him, figuring I can talk to him here too. The problem is, before I even open my mouth, he takes action.

Joey's kissing my neck and every spot he imprints strengthens the tingles running all over my body, until they start hitting my most sensitive area and I'm starting to crave more than just his lips. It only builds when they move down and over to the tops of my breasts. I somehow realize through these overpowering kisses, that I should really say something before this goes any further.

"Joey?"

He doesn't stop and just mumbles over my breast.

"Joey – I – wanted to talk - to you," I try to speak normally, while undergoing this alluring attack.

"About what?" I hear he nibble against my skin.

"Joey," I say more sternly now and he finally lifts his head back up and looks at me.

"Okay, sorry. What were you saying?" he asks.

"I wanted to talk about this…our little set up here?"

Joey cocks an eyebrow at me.

"I know it seems really great, for both of us, and it is – for now..."

"What?"

"I'm just saying, shouldn't we think this through, maybe this is a dangerous thing?"

"How could making each other feel good be bad?" he asks matter-of-factly. Thinking about how good he makes me feel nearly causes me to forget the whole conversation, but I will through.

"I know, but have you ever heard of these things working out? I'm sure it was great for everyone in the beginning. I'm just saying why don't we just think for a second and consider the future. Maybe it's better if we put a stop to this sooner than later," I explain.

Suddenly, he eyes seems to melt into innocently scared emotions.

"Rachel – you want to stop?" he asks nervously.

"I didn't say that, I just – I'm scared about us and our friendship."

"No, nothing is gonna happen. Okay, let's just enjoy ourselves," he says this to me as he leans in and kisses my cheek. He moves this kiss to my ear and starts nibbling his way back down to my neck. He almost had me totally lost, but I pull back and pop up from the couch. Puppy dog eyes follow me as I step away from the couch.

"Joey, this is the problem, we just keep falling back into bed."

He opens his eyes wide at me.

"We can do it on the couch if you want."

"I _mean_ this is all we do now."

"That's not true, we still eat meals together and last night we watched a movie."

"Yeah, because we need to eat and we can't have sex 24/7. The rest of the time, we're not having sex because I'm at work or we're with our other friends for once."

"I don't get this. I thought you liked having sex with me?" Joey stands up as well now.

"I do, it's very…nice."

"_Nice_?" Joey asks defensively.

"Okay, great…really, really great," I correct myself for him. "It's just what is this going to come to? Maybe we should start dating again, find people who we could actually have a future with!"

Joey stares blankly at me.

"Fine," he claims. "We'll date other people."

I don't like his tone anymore.

"Okay _fine_," I dispute back.

We separate for the rest of the night into our own rooms.

* * *

The next night Joey and I both already have dates, we work fast and also because we're probably the biggest sluts of the group. Anyway, I only flirted with my guy because I knew I could easily get him and really I just wanted to shove it in Joey's face since I knew there would be no delay for Joey to get a date. My guy was good enough looking that I would gain some points when Joey answers the door when he comes to pick me up.

It all worked out, my guy arrived before Joey left to get his date. Joey opened the door, saw the man, said hello and then nearly glared at me on the way out. I left smiling, hand in hand with…what's his name? Anyway, I knew I wasn't really into this guy so I sat through a dinner and then made an excuse to go home. The time didn't matter because knowing Joey, who knows if he would even return tonight so I wasn't even gonna bother trying to get home later than him.

My date, still can't remember his name, drops me off at nine. I thank him and walk in. I'm alone of course, so I start taking off my heels. I decide I might a well just dig into the leftovers, why not? I'm unwrapping the foil when I hear the door opening. I figure it's Monica or someone, but to my surprise it's Joey. My jaw nearly drops. He barely looks at me and then proceeds to remove his jacket and keys onto the foosball table.

_I guess I'm spilling the made up beans of my steamy night now_, I think to myself. I was waiting for the moment he would get home just to rub it in. I stand up from the bar stool and get ready by simply displaying a wide smile for him. He starts walking over and I'm ready to roughen him up when out of nowhere he pulls me into a kiss. Every thought leaves my body as his arms wrap around me and the taste of his lips take over. He doesn't stop there either; his kisses only deepen as well as the grip on my back or waist, wherever his hands roam. I let it happen though, without a second thought.

He's pushing me backwards and we keep going until we hit his bedroom. I hear him shutting the door, but I'm not even looking as I fall onto the bed. He's over me within seconds, I hear his shoes hit the floor and before I know it he's unbuckling my pants and lifting my shirt. Soon, all our clothes are gone and we're writhing under the covers, his naked body over mine. He hands are going everywhere, but it feels so good when they start messaging my breasts.

Even though, it hasn't even been a full 24 hours since we decided to date other people, I want him now more than ever. It feels like the first time again, like we've been deprived for months and all that's left is raw desire and need.

So, naturally, I speed things up and the second he enters me I'm releasing moans of delight and they only increase as he ups the speed and force. Every thrust is a painful pleasure and I only want more. The louder I moan the harder he thrusts. Finally, I only remember seeing white moments later and my body is filled with satisfaction. He's lying beside me now and we're both breathing heavy.

Neither of us speaks a single word.

We were both clueless when it came to us.


	6. Chapter 6

This is so surreal. It's as if that night three days ago never happened. As if we didn't go on dates and then have sex the second we both got home.

We never spoke about it. I felt weird asking Joey what happened on his date, seeing that he came home early and slept with me instead. I never built up the courage to do it though and he never mentioned it.

After that we went back to "dating other people". Well, he did. I was holding back because I didn't know what anything meant, I was still confused. He confirmed we were still dating other people today when he told me he has another date tonight. I didn't know what to think. Was this for real? I simply told him "great, have fun."

I have to admit, I sat home the whole time Joey was on his date wondering what would happen when he returned home…well if he did this time. Then I honestly thought about it. What if he doesn't come home or worse he does, but with another girl. For once, this would be so weird since I know what sleeping with him is like. The thought of hearing him with another girl on the other side of my wall brought a shiver to my body.

After about three hours, I decided I'm going to assume Joey will not be coming home and prepare to spend the night this way. Unfortunately, within the next hour I hear the doorknob turning. I fear turning around in my chair and finding a girl accompanying him. I of course turn around anyway. I see Joey slip in the doorway quietly, until he spots me. He shuts the door without breaking the steady stare he now has on me. The second he drops his keys on the counter I stand up. Something in me is turning my stomach to pieces…I don't know if it's joy, relief, anger, or confusion. Whatever it is it makes me walk right up to him, both of us still locking eyes. The intense eye contact is only broken when within the next second we are blindly making out again. I don't understand how this happens and I know this time it was me, but this was truly the last thing I was planning. It's possible that feeling in my stomach was attraction because I can't get enough of him. Our kisses are lightening fast and bruising with the force we're using. Nothing can stop us at this point. Soaring heat is taking over and clothes are already coming off.

* * *

I lay in bed, next to Joey, wondering why this keeps happening. I should ask him what keeps happening on his dates, why they aren't going well. I look over at him, but he doesn't notice. I look at his chest rising and falling with each breath. Instead I do something I've never done with Joey after sex. I lean over and rest my head on his chest. I'm worried maybe it's not right to cuddle with him, maybe that's only reserved for real couples, but I should have realized this is Joey. He reaches his arm around me and snuggles me closer. His hand gently rubs my arm. I never thought this would be so comforting or peaceful, but before I know it I fall asleep just like this.

* * *

I don't like this anymore. I'm the one that wanted to end the casual sex. I don't want to be in a friends with benefits situation and so I certainly don't want to be in maybe I'll randomly hook up with Joey after a date with _another person_!

I sit Joey down one day and look honestly into his eyes.

"Joey, I don't want to do this anymore."

"Do what?" he asks genuinely.

"Have sex randomly, casually, sporadically - with you," I tell him shyly.

He looks at me with an unclear expression. He stays silent for a few moments.

"Well…we're dating other people," he answers.

"Are we?" I question him.

"Yes, I've been on two dates this week."

"And have you slept with them?" I wait for his answer, expecting a no when a fear washes over me. What if he has, what if all this time he's been hooking up with his dates and then coming home and doing it with me as well. A feeling of disgust and betrayal enters my stomach and now every second feels like an eternity.

"Well did you!" I suddenly shout at him, unexpectedly. I hold a look of shock as well on my face and I'm about to apologize when he finally answers.

"No."

I want to let out a breath of relief, but I hold back.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to yell," I backtrack, ignoring his reply.

"Rachel, I just feel more comfortable with you, you know, I mean I'm still dealing…with… my mom gone," he says.

Now I feel awful, I feel like I'm taking the only thing away from him that doesn't make him feel the hurt inside. I haven't heard him talk about his mother in weeks, maybe months.

But this is foolish, me having sex with him shouldn't be the only solution. What am I gonna do get married, but still be having sex with Joey on the side so he can block out the pain? No, this still has to end.

"I know honey, but this isn't the right way to handle it. You need to find away to move on with your life, so you can make a life for yourself again. We're both gonna want to find people to spend the rest of our lives with, well hopefully, and so we shouldn't be in each other's way," I try to explain, but he just looks sad. He doesn't say much else. He tells me he understands and then he lets me hug him for a moment, but doesn't hug me back. That makes me feel a bit cold, but I understand he's still coping with everything.

* * *

A few days go by and Joey and I are basically normal. He's a little more sad, but he still never fully recovered in the first place. He's always had a bump and slump in his step since his mother first passed. On Thursday, I come home to an empty apartment. I think nothing of it. I start putting my stuff down and browsing the fridge for a potential meal. A bang on the door scares me and I jump from my skin. I close the fridge door and open the front door. Joey is standing outside the door trying to find the right key in his hand, even though there are only two on the ring. The smell of beer slices through me and leaves me with memories of bad scars from months ago. Months ago, when this was a regular thing. It all rushes back to me and I want to cry. What went wrong?

We were always far from perfect


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much for all the reviews everyone!

* * *

Joey stumbles in and I want to close my eyes and shield myself from this misery. I shut the door and then close my eyes praying that when I turn around and open them, I will have imagined all of this. I do just that, but am only disappointed to find a still drunk Joey that has now fallen on the floor in an attempt to sit in one of the lounge chairs.

I walk over to him and go to help him up.

"Rachel, I'm fine," he suddenly protests, something he never did before.

"I was just gonna help you up," I speak loudly to him.

"Ah, you don't have to talk so loud!" he yells at me.

"Well, sorry!" I yell purposely back. "Maybe if you didn't have to go out and get -"

Suddenly I freeze and I'm dead silent as I realize what he originally starting getting drunk over. How can I be so insensitive? He lost his mother for god sake!

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Joey. I just forgot for a second."

"Forgot what?" he asks in an annoyed tone.

"Nothing, why don't we just get you to bed," I say sweetly.

"No, I'm fine," he says and finally clumsily gets up on his own.

"But it's already getting late."

"No it's not," he argues again and I'm finding it harder and harder not to raise my voice. I know before I used to be stern with him, but I feel like it's a fresh wound again and I want to be gentle, at least at first.

"Joey, would you please just get to bed so you can sober up?"

He stares at me, but not an annoyed or frustrated stare, just a fixed stare, one I can't quite read. I wait for an explanation, but of course he's not gonna explain a look he probably doesn't even realize he has on. I guess it might be about his mother.

"Look, I know it might still hurt, but we can move past this. Trust me, I know it seems like a never ending road because she's not coming back, but-"

"Wait," he interrupts me.

"What?"

"I've been doing good. I'm actually starting to accept the fact that – that she's really gone."

"Really?" I ask and then think it might be the alcohol talking. "Oh, yes, you're right. Which is why there is no reason to stay up. Let's just be happy and go to bed," I say in the fakest voice even I've ever heard.

"Rachel, I'm being serious," he says and his tone certainly is. I cock my head at him.

"Then why are you drunk," I finally say.

He takes a deep breath.

"I'm not drunk cause I lost my mom, I'm drunk tonight because….I lost you."

I don't move, I can't breathe.

Joey likes me?

I never considered that – _ever_. I really, honestly, thought sleeping together was a way for him to forget and try to cope with the fact of losing his mother. I never thought that he encouraged it because he was falling for me.

I look at him now, he holds a remorseful expression. I tilt my head at him for a second as a new possibility enters my mind.

"Wait a minute. You're just saying this so we can start up again."

He stares at me wildly, as if I was crazy for saying such words. He just calmly shakes his head no.

"Come on, how can I believe you. You're not right, your mind's not right Joe. You lost your mom, you weren't yourself for months and now you're drunk again."

His face is still serious and he walks over to me. He takes my hand in his, much to my surprise.

"Rachel, my breath may be sour with beer, but when I drink I only admit the truth. I left today because the bar was where I went to try to take away my pain from my mother's death. I figured it would do the same with you. You are just everything I need and want Rachel…honestly."

I'm just staring at him, partly trying to believe him and partly deciding how I feel about this.

"I… I'm sorry," I blurt out nervously, take my hand back and hurry to my room.

* * *

I don't come out all night and Joey doesn't come to see me. I laid in my bed for hours thinking everything over. Playing back nights when I was with him, trying to find a hint that he wanted it this whole time. Deciding if I had any feelings for him. I didn't think I did, but sitting in my room alone for hours made me so lonely and all I wanted was to be with him. I never thought I needed it, the sex or comfort of being with Joey, but with every passing hour I've never missed it more.

I look over and see it's two in the morning. I get up and walk out. Surprisingly, Joey's sitting in the lounge chair, but without the tv on.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"Waiting," he tells me.

"For what?"

"You."

Every time he says things like this, he scares me now.

"I had to think a lot of things over."

Joey stands up.

"Rachel, I just need to say first. No matter what happens, I need us to stay friends because I love our friendship too much. Especially these past months and not for what you think, because you couldn't have been a better friend at one of the darkest times in my life. Thanks."

I let out a small smile.

"Of course, I had to help I love you too much," I say. Suddenly something makes complete sense to me now. My face must be showing clear signs of clarity and discovery because Joey questions me.

"What is it?" he asks.

"I just realized why the thought of you loving me scared me so much."

"Why?"

"Because it's too perfect."

"What?" he asks.

"You, I think I've fallen for you this whole time and just didn't let myself believe it. Even as drunk or difficult as you were at times, I still wanted you, I still loved you….I still do," I explained to him and myself.

He walks over and kisses me. This kiss was so real and honest – it was perfect as well. When he lets me go, I smile and laugh with joy. He smiles back. I can already tell I'm gonna love him for a long time.


	8. Chapter 8

_~ May 20, 2004 ~_

_The Wedding of Joseph Francis Tribbiani and Rachel Karen Green_

I look deep into his eyes. I never thought it was possible to be this incredibly happy.

I look out at the audience with all my friends and family and can't believe this day – it should be a dream, but thank god its not. I look back at the man I love and recite my vows to him.

I take a deep breath and look down at the small piece of paper I had written the words that just came to me one night.

" Joseph Tribbiani,

I fell for you when you were at your worst

I still saw you when you weren't yourself

You were never truly alone even when you were alone

I knew you wanted me close, it ends up I needed you closer

We were both clueless when it came to us.

And most of all, We were always far from perfect

But even through this rocky road and cloudy beginning,

We got through it

And it only makes me believe that our love can survive anything.

I'm so excited to spend the rest of my life with you and see what else it has to offer to us.

I love you so much."


End file.
